What don't you have that I've not taken away?
Did I not give you it all when ever you demanded?
A miasma of blackness my affection withers then disappears.
When we once enjoyed a hard oneness, and sweated,
both wide-eyed and untainted as if angel's should kiss.
But your burning, turned cold, desire it vanished.
In a fog covered twisted, furious vision of pain -
Thus drops of blood followed as rain, followed lost love,
your love of pain split into heart's torn apart.
Perfect was the storm of loud thunder and vengeance,
Unresponsive, Unrepentant,
passed out drunk, split intwain by it's great length
and it's thickness.
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